Parallels
by Jadey1
Summary: Saruman finds a new way to bring down the fellowship. AL. UPDATE!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is after Helms Deep, Haldir lived, and Galadriel (through her gift of sight) believes that the two hobbits in Mordor are well, so the rest of the fellowship are ok, for now. This starts a bit backward in that it starts with meaningless sex and then dissolves into a plot! Beware! Oh yeah and review!  
  
Chapter 1  
  
'Rest' she had said. Helms Deep had held, Isenguard had fallen. Sam and Frodo were well. The ring laid in their hands now, there was nothing more they could do. 'Rest' she said, and that is what they did. The two lovers left the Lady of Light and found a beautiful clearing and lay upon the ground to try and rest. Peace, hope washing over them. They could relax if only for a little while, until they were needed again.  
  
That was the first image the dark ones saw.  
  
Aragorn gazed over lovingly to the elf who had thrown himself to the ground in complete abandon. His ran his fingers against a cheek, then trying a new tack, ran his hand suggestively up the inside thigh in order to get some attention. A fan of gold splayed out over the grass, ocean blue eyes rose to meet his own, lips curving into a warm smile.  
  
"You are beautiful nin meleth."  
  
"So some say."  
  
"Nay, it is true, do you not see the glances, the looks you get when you are seen, even here in the Golden Forest."  
  
"You are foolish, but pray do such looks trouble you?"  
  
"A little, I am a creature of jealousy, and no-one but I shall have my elf." The King of men coiled his arm around Legolas' waist and then rolled back, pulling the beauty onto him. The elf laughed.  
  
"Have no fear," he whispered, lips nearly meeting lips, "I am yours and yours alone beloved." Then lips met. Not yet passionate but tender, tongues swirled and lips were pressed together. But such reverence could not last for long.  
  
This was a couple of great passion who burned for each other, for their touch. They completed each other, a perfect balance. Long, sleek gold met shorter, rugged black, and pale, smooth ivory met dark, scarred tan. Even now in the throws of passion, it was near impossible to see where one being ended and where another began.  
  
The two locked lips refusing to lose the contact, they seemed to roll to some unknown location. Constantly grappling for power yet still happy to concede. They finally settled in a satisfactory position, Legolas sprawled tantalisingly over the leaves, the man looming over him possessively lapping at his neck. A series of delicious moans spilled from Legolas' mouth slowly unravelling Aragorn's tried patience.  
  
The heir to Gondor took control, viciously untying his lover's tunic only then to decide this form of removal was not first enough and he tore the article clean in half, ripping at the seam and throwing it blindly away. The tunic's owner could not have raised an objection if he wanted to; he was too busy trying to remove the clothing of the one above and managed to finally do so without destroying them.  
  
But this was one elf who should never be underestimated. After revealing Aragorn's bare chest, instead of laying back as the man would have liked, he immediately trailed his hands down the body and made a similar attack upon the leggings he encountered there. Using one hand to unfasten the garment, he slipped the other inside them. The man was now completely under his control and the elf smiled as if he caught his prey. The man writhed, moaning in pleasure, his hands leaving his lover in order to steady himself. Legolas took advantage of the promising situation, sliding the leggings and himself downwards, letting Aragorn feel his mouth.  
  
The cry the man let out was enough to alert the Lady wherever she resided, as well as most of the forest. Hands flews instinctively to golden silk, clutching at great handfuls in order to stop this wonderful sensation from ending. But it did end, just as Aragorn with on the brink, the mouth pulled away. Aragorn knew why, but could not prevent a small whimper. Legolas brought his face level once again and kissed him sweetly, murmuring.  
  
Showing a shameless lack of control, Islidur's heir forced Legolas flat against the forest floor using his own body weight. He positioned himself and wrapped the ivory legs around his waist.  
  
The trees sang as the two made love, a well-rehearsed, yet invitingly fresh dance of passion. The forest was proud to house it, and looked over the two as they reached their completion. They remained still for quite some time, pressed together until Legolas reached to what was left of his tunic and eyed it incredulously.  
  
"And how sweet one, am I going to explain this? Could you not have been slightly more careful, or I daresay, patient?"  
  
"When it comes to you, patience is not within me. Could you not say you caught it on a branch?"  
  
"And then proceeded to completely destroy it, ripping it into two clean halves."  
  
"No then, why does it trouble you so? Gimli knows about us, as do Gandalf and the hobbits, I am sure the Lady would not mind. . . ."  
  
"It is not that, what will the other elves here think of me walking around bare-chested?"  
  
"They better not be thinking anything. Perhaps it is one elf in particular that concerns you?" The man teased.  
  
"Aragorn, I have told you before, Rumil is completely harmless, his intentions are nothing but honourable."  
  
"He did not look honourable earlier as he helped you from that tree."  
  
"Well, perhaps he is smitten, but you need not worry. As I have told you, I only have eyes for you."  
  
"As you should, but I still don't trust him."  
  
"You wouldn't"  
  
"And what is that supposed to mean!"  
  
"You know exactly what it means."  
  
There was a long, contented silence. The two had long since dressed, or had tried to.  
  
Aragorn kissed greedily at a delicate pointed ear. "Ahh Legolas, what would I do without you?"  
  
"Who knows," came the reply.  
  
A rustling sounded in the trees and a blond figure appeared.  
  
"Rumil!" Legolas clambered off the man with much dignity as he could.  
  
"Legolas, I have been looking for you, uhhh. . . . .what happened to your tunic?"  
  
A answer came from the ground. "An unfortunate accident." Aragorn rose to his feet and stood between the elves in a blatant gesture of possession.  
  
Rumil gallantly offered the other elf he tunic he himself wore, but the offer was flatly refused.  
  
"The Lady wishes to speak to you before you retire."  
  
"Well we shall be sure to go and see her, thank you Rumil." The elf seemed painfully aware that the man was dismissing him. With a nervous and unnecessary half bow Rumil near ran back into the trees.  
  
"Aragorn! You are cruel." The prince stifled a chuckle.  
  
"Cruel! Did you not see his lusty gaze!"  
  
"Lusty gaze?! He looked like a deer caught in crossfire!"  
  
The man laughed.  
  
"Come, let us return to the others."  
  
The two figures hand-in-hand dissolved slowly into a grey mist.  
  
*************************  
  
"Your power over the Palantir grows Lord, you can look over the whole of this land, no-one will suspect." The dark one whispered filled with malicious glee.  
  
"Alas, I am denied the view of the depths of Mordor, Sauron's power is too great."  
  
"But Master, do you not see? We have found his weakness. We can destroy him, toy with him. Bring down the man and you bring down Middle Earth, the tiny hobbits are simple enough to eliminate. It will be yours for the taking. Did you see his love, his jealousy, he cannot live without the elf."  
  
"Indeed, you may be right, let us move quickly."  
  
"Very good Saruman, I shall send out forces to kill the elf."  
  
"Halt Grima! This man is responsible for the destruction of all I have worked for, for the battle of Helms Deep, let us play, I wish to have some fun."  
  
"Play?"  
  
"Yes, Grima hold still." The wizard raised his staff, a blinding light flew from it, engulfing Wormtongue.  
  
The white skin darkened slightly, rank black hair lengthened, softened, untangled and was bleached a shade of gold. Grima grew a few inches, his features softened, eyes lightened and his rags replaced with the finest elven leather.  
  
"Good." Saruman nodded. "The man knew not what he would do without the elf, I think it's time we found out. Go!"  
  
The other figure turned and left.  
  
Where the gruesome, slimy figure of Grima Wormtongue had walked in, Legolas Greenleaf, beautiful Prince of Mirkwood walked out.  
  
A/N: Oh dear. I'll try and update weekly if I can, so more soon! Please, please review. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Uh, Jade. 14 days does NOT constitute a week, in fact that is two. Duh! Sorry for the delay guys.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Saruman watched in perverse delight as the admittedly pleasing form of The Mirkwood Prince descended the stairs. This ploy had potential that he could formally only dream of.  
  
"We must bring down the man." That was what had first alerted the evil Maia to the situation. It was Grima's firm belief that the hobbits that struggled to Mordor could be easily stopped; it was the remainder of the Fellowship that proved a problem, as demonstrated at the Deep. The only reason they remained a problem was their leadership and growing support. Great leadership should never be underestimated. The leader was Aragorn, heir to the throne of Gondor. If he fell, the Fellowship would fall, so would hope. So would Middle Earth. Inevitably Saruman turned to the ever- growing power of the Palantir.  
  
There. There was the weakness they had been desperately searching for. It had been right in front of them all this time.  
  
Using his strengthening powers Saruman transported his bait to the Golden Forest, Lothlorien. There was no way he could predict the chain of events this set in motion.  
  
*************************  
  
Grima still hadn't got used to his new guise, for someone so dark and entirely ugly to have such a light and beautiful form was alien. Although he spoke and appeared as Legolas did, he moved and thought as Grima Wormtongue, inheriting no elven attributes. He had to be careful or this may give him away.  
  
Currently Grima found himself merely mimicking the other elves around, trying to emulate their light footfalls and agile movement. Although it pained him to admit it, the accursed man he targeted had been right in one respect, the looks he received from fellow elves were all but innocent, Grima squirmed, unused to such scrutiny. Then he caught himself. That was not how the Prince would have reacted. This pretence threatened to be impossible to maintain.  
  
Suddenly he heard a familiar voice, unable to place it he edged closer.  
  
It was the voice he had just greeted a stray elf with. His own voice, or rather that of the Prince. He was bidding someone farewell. His lover mayhap?  
  
"The Lady wishes to speak with you Aragorn, you procrastinate."  
  
"Only for you, my sweet."  
  
"Not even I am worth risking her wrath. Go."  
  
"I shall return soon my love."  
  
With that and a swift kiss, the man disappeared into the foliage.  
  
~Sickening.~ Grima thought, before noticing the forlorn expression on the Prince's face.  
  
~Oh now they hate to be apart.~ This observation only made Grima's plan that bit more sweet.  
  
Wait.  
  
Did he have a plan?  
  
It was only at this late stage that Grima realised he had absolutely no idea of what to do next. The situation had so much power, but without direction or ambition, even the world's greatest power was useless.  
  
Grima felt a strange sense of urgency, a feeling that whatever he did, he would have to do it now. So impulsively, no less decided, but a lot more resolved, Grima bounded off following the dark figure of the man into the trees.  
  
Tracking him with infinitely less grace and discretion than his counterpart, it was not long before Grima had lost sight of his target and was hopelessly lost. He contemplated relaying this back to his master. He continued onwards until he encountered something that made him stop in his tracks.  
  
Directly ahead, a tall, lithe elf sat upon the leaves, his head buried in his hands, face lost in his hair. Yet again, there was something strangely familiar. Grima stepped back as he heard raised voices.  
  
"Rumil, Rumil! Come on Rumil, I know you're there. This is silly!"  
  
The elf, Rumil, hurriedly scampered across the clearing, keen not to be found. He was sobbing loudly, Grima realised he'd been crying. Eventually the voices gave up and the forest was once again silent.  
  
With a sinister smile, Grima noted the importance of this elf, and made a noticeable entrance into the clearing.  
  
Immediately Rumil looked up, and seeing it was Legolas, dried his eyes and straightened his tunic. "Legolas! I did not see you there, I apologise."  
  
Grima grudgingly adopted Legolas' soft, kind and eloquent speech. "Rumil, you have no need to apologise, I intrude, but tell me, why do you weep so?"  
  
"I cannot tell you," came the small but certain reply.  
  
"Yes, you can Rumil, surely I have told you that."  
  
"I do not recall - "  
  
Grima winced and continued quickly, "Well, it is true my friend. Now, speak."  
  
"Well, you see, my heart longs for another."  
  
The evil one feigned surprise with such ineptitude that it was a marvel Rumil did not notice. "I see, who is it that deserves such love?"  
  
"It is hard to explain."  
  
*************************  
  
"Haldir!" Aragorn shouted, having recognised the swiftly moving figure. "Have you seen Legolas?"  
  
The elf replied with a chuckle. "I was about to ask you if you yourself had seen Rumil, I have not spied him for some time."  
  
Aragorn frowned, biting at his bottom lip.  
  
"Oh Aragorn, do not fret so, I have indeed seen your love. He followed you not long after you left to see the lady."  
  
Now more confused than ever, Aragorn walked slowly back the way he came.  
  
**************************  
  
Grima listened with an almost tangible lack of interest. Rumil had been speaking at some length of the greatest love he had ever known, and Wormtongue was bored to tears. Moreover, the monologue was a near picture perfect description of Legolas, evidently the object of this simpering elf's desire. Something had to happen soon else Grima would free his companion of the meagre weapons he carried and put them to good use. He carefully drew his attention back to the snivelling figure looking for a possible opening. He found it as Rumil began to draw up his conclusions.  
  
". . . .alas, he will never love me, he only has eyes for another, his lover." He glanced sideways. "He sees me only as a fool. I am nothing."  
  
"Nonsense Rumil, you are so much more than nothing, I do not see you as fool. It is true I have dallied with Aragorn long enough, it is time I obeyed my heart!"  
  
Rumil, completely absorbed, agreed before registering his shock and horror. "How did you know?" He asked, mouth agape.  
  
The figure of Legolas lent forward, teasing and tempting. "Come now, credit me with some intelligence."  
  
Rumil could only form inarticulate noises, devoid of function or meaning. Grima doubted he was even capable of movement.  
  
Hearing a disturbance in the bushes behind, Wormtongue took his chance, lunging forward and pressing his lips hard against the others.  
  
Back up in Orthanc, Saruman looked on pleased, nodding in grim satisfaction.  
  
A/N: Things look grim for our heroes. I will try and get a new chapter up ASAP. Possibly Sunday. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Late again, I am truly hopeless. I would like to dedicate this chapter to Katherine. Not only has she written one of the greatest stories I have read, Once Upon A Memory. Go read it! But she sent me the sweetest email the other day. God I hope she updates soon. Read on everyone and many thanks to Katherine.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
The man hurried through the forest, keen to find the elf. It was not that he didn't trust his lover or Rumil, it was just that the lusty elf woke something inside of him. A deep rooted insecurity, stemming from the amazement that Legolas, such a beautiful elf, would want such a rugged man. He sped up slightly as he recalled Haldir being unable to find his brother. This, by no means meant the two were together, but then again, jealousy never did listen to reason.  
  
Hearing a disturbance to his left, he changed course, following the sound of voices. He arrived just in time to see the pair kiss.  
  
Aragorn was stunned, momentarily immobile as he saw his lover locked in a passionate embrace with Rumil, the entwined two falling from their wooden perch into the undergrowth below. They showed no intention of stopping, or any guilty hesitation. The thought that this meeting may not be their first swept bitterly through the man's mind. He watched for a little longer, hoping the image would dissolve away into something less painful, but it did not, and sadly the man turned away and disappeared into a haze of green.  
  
Grima himself was lost in a moment of indecision. The man had left and their was no need to carry on with this shameless distraction. However, the whole situation was very pleasing and he was enjoying himself immensely. The argument was settled as Rumil ran his hands wildly through the long golden hair and pulled 'his love' down to the ground.  
  
*************************  
  
Aragorn staggered dumbly back to the talan he shared with his lover, with his former lover, he corrected. He looked upwards. The day had been beautiful, the sky a rich azure, sun shining benevolently over all it saw. Now the sky seemed little more than a grey wash, the slightest hint of blue. The sun near lost beneath the clouds. The colour lost from the sky as it was from his heart.  
  
He mused over what he was to do next; he had not the heart or will to confront Legolas now, to interrupt his liaison. Aragorn could not face his wayward for a while; he had to collect his thoughts. He returned to the tree and its rooms the two had made their home to collect some things. He would stay with the hobbits and Gimli for a while. Their light-hearted laughter and carefree smiles would be just what he needed. They would not pry, not if he kept his heartbreak secret. He could not forget, but he could be distracted.  
  
Bracing himself, he clambered up the branches.  
  
*************************  
  
Legolas had not waited long after Aragorn had left him to see the Lady before hatching his own devious plan. Smiling at the disappearing figure, rubbing absent-mindedly at his kissed lips, missing the familiar touch already. Giggling like an elf half his age, the blond form near skipped back to the talan.  
  
Amazed to find such beautiful roses and orchids growing freely in the forest, Legolas gently picked them, appreciative of their beauty, promising to plant more in their place. He had decided to do something romantic; it had been a long while since he had been truly romantic. He scowled as he thought of the view others had of him. Most thought that two males were incapable of such romance and tenderness. Gathering a bunch of flowers in his arms, Legolas set out to prove them all wrong.  
  
By the time Aragorn had arrived, the elf had only just finished. The room had been scented with oils and lit sparsely by candles. Initially the room had been lit perfectly by rays of golden sunlight streaming in through the window, but alas, the room darkened as clouds formed overhead. Sighing, Legolas resigned himself to lighting a few candles. Some of the flowers in passionate reds and pinks had been placed at the bedside. Others Legolas carefully removed the petals from, and threw them haphazardly across the central bed, as if in wild abandon.  
  
Proud of their work, elven eyes surveyed the room taking quick and careful notice of everything, ensuring it was all perfect as it should have been. Tutting softly Legolas noticed he had neglected the most important thing, himself. With great distain Legolas observed he wore simple, plain tunic and breeches. This would not do, he strode purposefully into the next room in order to change. While he did so, the man he was expecting walked in.  
  
Aragorn's breath caught in his throat as he saw the room. It was breath- taking. Dimly lit, petals created a suggestive path towards the bed that dominated the room. It was unbearably romantic. Tears rolled down Aragorn's cheek as his realised why the elf had gone to so much trouble. Hearing soft sobs, Legolas hurried in.  
  
"Aragorn, do not weep." He moved to touch the man's face and withdrew as if burned when the man stepped away.  
  
"Do not touch me." The command was simple, emphasis placed on every word. Aragorn had intended to merely turn and leave, but this blasé attempt to pretend nothing had happened awoke a fiery anger within him.  
  
"Is this some weak form of apology? A few flowers and everything will be fine. You feel you have such power over me do you Legolas? I will come running back like a good little man whatever you do. . . ."  
  
"Aragorn I - "  
  
"DO NOT! Do not attempt to sway me with your poison words. Do not come near me with your poison touch, your poison heart. You are but poison, I wish I had never set eyes upon you!" The man turned and left before his emotion betrayed him, the quaver in his shaky voice a sign of how much it pained him to speak so. He left a stunned elf in his wake.  
  
As the last of the weeping sun was lost beneath the all-encompassing cloud, Legolas fell upon the petal covered bed and wept.  
  
A/N: Ok, death threats to be sent to. . . .Please review and more ASAP. 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry, another long wait. Here you go, apologies to the reviewer I disturbed, not my intention. I disclaim, I own nothing. Thanks to Katherine for being so sweet and Cheysuli - you were just a bit ahead of me darling.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
The slight figure awoke, stirring for the first time in hours. Dawn had once again graced the room. Through water filled eyes, the room looked pathetic. Legolas surveyed the scene. The delicate petals had been crushed heedlessly into the wooden floor, the bed now in disarray from him throwing himself upon it. The elf picked up a red petal, running it through his hands he noted how easily it fell apart. Everything had fallen apart, in the space of moments. And the elf had no clue why. Ripping the robes angrily from his body, he wept bitterly as he redressed in his bland, normal attire. Now was not the time for colour. The reds, pinks and golds of the room had been lost in those shattering moments. All had faded now to a monotonous, telling grey, devoid of life.  
  
His first thought after recovering had been to chase the man, to order him to speak his mind. But now, that seemed foolhardy. Legolas desperately scoured his mind for some grievance, for some possible motive. Yet, he could not find one. He had done nothing to deserve such treatment. What was it Aragorn said? An apology, this whole act was an apology. An apology for an undefined crime.  
  
True, pursuing Aragorn would achieve little, thought the elf, but staying here achieves less. Legolas strode into the trees, still unaware of his destination.  
  
*************************  
  
Strange, yesterday Rumil cried, without apparent reason. Yet today, the elf had good cause to cry, and he could not bring himself to. He sat blankly staring, stock still, repeating detached phrases. His brother, Orophin sat beside him, patting uselessly at his arm.  
  
"That was fun, he said, shame I had to look upon your face, that's what he said." The distraught elf continued mumbling. His sibling had been told the same story a number of times now, and his fury was growing.  
  
His brother had been used, used by the one he loves. Legolas used him and then left, telling the forlorn elf he never wanted to gaze upon his countenance again. Apparently the Prince of Mirkwood had told Rumil that intercourse was all he was good for, before irritably wiping himself clean and carelessly disappearing into the forest.  
  
"Look." Rumil raised an arm and held it out, the limb was covered in bruises that would soon heal. "It hurt." He said with the frightened voice of a small child.  
  
Rumil had spoke of nothing else in the hours since, he had not even moved. His two brothers had found him where he sat in the silent twilight hours, after a dedicated search.  
  
Haldir now paced in front of his two brothers, murderous anger clouding his thoughts. The protective elf promising and needing vengeance. Neither of his kin stopped him as walked off with a growl.  
  
*************************  
  
Pippin sat determinedly preparing breakfast, a special breakfast as he had promised. Acquiring some ingredients from their hosts, Pippin cooked up everything he had, attempting to cheer up their newest companion. Aragorn had appeared late yesterday afternoon, on the premise of a visit. He stayed with them but seemed quiet, almost lost. Pippin had decided he needed cheering up, and nothing cheered him up back in the shire like a good meal. Gandalf watched over him, encouraging, smiling, the hobbit tossed everything into a pan, looking up when there was a commotion ahead.  
  
"Aragorn. . . ." The tone was warning, deep.  
  
"I do not wish to talk of this, Gimli." The man was hurrying away from frenzied questioning.  
  
"If this is some argument you have had with Legolas, maybe we can help." The dwarf seemed desperate.  
  
"Trust me friend, you cannot help." As he backed away, the future king stumbled, falling dangerously over the central fire. Pippin's hard work was tossed across the clearing.  
  
The hobbit did not feel the hurt or anger he expected, rather he was concerned over his friend. The man rose, Pippin spoke in a small voice.  
  
"What's wrong Aragorn?" For the first time, the man in question turned to face the halfling.  
  
Without reply Aragorn swayed and swivelled to face the trees. He lowered his head and bit his lip, as if fearing his own response. With one sad look back, he miserably shook his shaggy head and stomped away.  
  
But this time, the dwarf and hobbits followed him, Gandalf remained - his face grim.  
  
******************************  
  
Legolas had been walking for what seemed like hours, he had arrived at the central part of the forest, not far from where the Lord and Lady resided. He was about to continue onwards, when something blocked his path.  
  
"Haldir I - "  
  
The elf was cut short by Haldir grabbing at his collar and pressing him hard against a nearby tree.  
  
"Think you are so wise, little one? Think you can play these games? Well, you cannot. You are nothing, hear me nothing." Legolas could hear with ease, but understanding came less easily. Unfortunately he was not allowed to speak.  
  
"First you use my brother and then toss him away, do you do this with many? Did you even stop to think of Aragorn?"  
  
The very man seemed to melt into the picture, appearing from the sea of green, as if called by his relevance. Legolas tried to call out to his lover, but again was stopped.  
  
Aragorn did not move as Haldir raised a fist. He remained still as it made contact with Legolas' face, blood flowing freely from his lip.  
  
However, an audience was growing. "Aragorn do something!" Came the call of the dwarf, the hobbits merely calling names shrilly. No matter how many times the dwarf shouted, Aragorn never acted. Stood as if frozen.  
  
Unable to raise a hand to a friend, Legolas was beaten to the ground, puzzled by his love's inaction. With one last ditch attempt, the elf called out to his beloved before he was cut off by darkness.  
  
Gimli, Pippin and Merry could stand to watch no more, they rushed forward, pushing both Haldir and Aragorn aside. They gathered up their friend, and with one last deadly look towards the man, they carried him back to the camp.  
  
A shadowy figure laughed gleefully from the canopy above.  
  
A/N: Oh no! Please, please review. I will update as soon as I can. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Huge thanks to reviewers, Katherine, Maia, Cheysuli - the whole damn crowd. Apologies for making you wait so long!  
  
Chapter 5  
  
The three small figures struggled admirably with their cumbersome load. They edged onward before reaching Gandalf, who sat staring blankly ahead until the staggering mass entered his line of sight. He rose instantly muttering ancient curses and relieved the dwarf and hobbits of their burden.  
  
"What happened?" He asked urgently, while laying Legolas gently upon the ground. To his surprise, he received no immediate answer and raised his head, surveying the faces of the group from the first time since their return. They each wore a mask of shocked disbelief.  
  
"Sit, all of you." He ordered. The old Maia asked his question again with slow, deliberate emphasis. Still, he was met with no reply. Finally, Gimli mumbled.  
  
"We don't really know Gandalf, we don't understand." The hobbits nodded vehemently in agreement.  
  
"What don't you understand?" The voice was laced with kind, yet ebbing patience.  
  
Merry spoke up. "He attacked him." Pippin continued, encouraged by his cousin's contribution. "Haldir attacked him."  
  
"Haldir! Why?" Gandalf encountered the same stoic silence.  
  
"He just attacked him." Gimli eased himself closer to the stricken elf Gandalf was trying to tend to.  
  
"Then he will pay the price." The wizard remarked with a sigh. "Were there any witnesses to this?"  
  
Instantly the three figures tensed, casting nervous glances in every direction.  
  
"Speak!" The hobbits jumped, keen not to anger the trusted figure they faced and fell over each other to reply with haste.  
  
"Aragorn!" They squeaked; Gimli's head dropped in bleak resignation.  
  
"Ah, then Haldir would have paid his due." Gandalf went back to cleaning the bloody face of the elf. "What did the Son of Arathorn do?"  
  
This time three tiny voices answered without hesitation. "Nothing."  
  
Suddenly a cold, alien voice entered the fray of words from the trees.  
  
"And he was right to do so."  
  
Gandalf the White stood quickly, grasping his staff and placing himself between the approaching figure and the fallen elf, noting that this visitor was armed.  
  
"In light of your actions, you are no longer welcome here, Haldir."  
  
"How hospitality wanes here in the Golden Forest."  
  
"You are not due such hospitality, now be gone!"  
  
"I should have known you would side with that foul rogue." Haldir spat bitterly.  
  
"What right have you to call him this? You are not half the elf he is!" Gimli charged forward, restrained gently by Gandalf.  
  
"What right? He used my brother and tossed him aside, betraying him and Aragorn without a second thought." The Galadrim stepped forward and widened his stance, as if preparing for combat.  
  
"Legolas would never do that!" The hobbits too had clambered to their feet, stood protectively ahead of the still unmoving elf.  
  
"Would he not? Then why did Aragorn not run to his aid?" With a sneer, Haldir turned on his heel and marched away.  
  
"You believe us, don't you Gandalf? Legolas wouldn't do that!" Merry pleaded.  
  
"Aye, he would not, Merridoc. Something here is amiss, my friend."  
  
Four lost figures gazed darkly into the tree line for a moment, perhaps searching for the retreating figure, or a approaching one, maybe the solution to this problem. However the emerald green yielded no answers and the reverie was broken by a moan directly behind.  
  
Legolas stirred, an eerie flush tainting his cheeks, he was immediately surrounded but did not wake. It was clear that something ailed him. He tossed and turned violently, Gandalf commenting he appeared to be in the grip of a fever.  
  
***************************  
  
Haldir stomped defiantly through the undergrowth, uncaring of what he destroyed, angry at what he had seen. He had wanted the Mirkwood Prince to suffer, and in a way he had. But even in his beaten, unconscious state, the beautiful elf stilled look peaceful, and was still surrounded by caring allies. Allies, all of which seemed not to have fully comprehended Legolas' sin. Could they not see?  
  
A sharp noise behind alerted Haldir, who drew his bow within the blink of an eye and whirled around to face his unseen foe.  
  
"You. . . ." Against his better judgement, Haldir lowered his weapon. He could not risk the penalty for slaying kin.  
  
Legolas laughed back. "Yes, I have recovered fully, not a scratch, not a mark. Losing your touch Haldir?" He added with a sneering whisper.  
  
The other did not reply, simply stood amazed as Legolas approached. Nor did he react in time when the Prince knocked the bow carelessly from the limp hands and brought a hunting knife sharply to his neck.  
  
"Alas Haldir, you like your beloved brother, are worth so little, it would be my pleasure to rid this world of you."  
  
"STOP!" The distraction was enough for Haldir to free himself and turn to face his rescuer.  
  
Aragorn's body was as rigid as stone, yet Anduril wavered slightly as it was outstretched, almost in disbelief at who it might threaten.  
  
"What has become of you Legolas?" Asked a broken voice.  
  
"What has become of me? This is me. You surely had not fallen for my act. 'Oh, beloved!' Preposterous! Once I am finished here, I shall ride on and claim the ring for myself, I trust it will not be too difficult."  
  
At Aragorn's gasp, the elf pressed on. "If I believed you could truly raise that sword to me, I would stand my ground and regain my weapon; but if you will excuse me, I tire of this game." The Prince moved a little too clumsily away, but in all the commotion, the critical distinction was lost.  
  
If Haldir or Aragorn had thought to listen just that little more carefully, they might have heard a whispered thanks to Saruman for his lent strength. However, the sound was masked beneath the clatter of Anduril hitting a small rock as it was thrown angrily to the ground.  
  
*************************  
  
Back at the camp, the four friends grew concerned.  
  
"He is beyond my help." Gandalf said heavily. "I do not even know what sickens him."  
  
"He is dying." Replied a calm, silken voice.  
  
The gathering whirled around, bowing slightly in the presence of the Lady, who sashayed forward.  
  
"What is killing him?" Gimli asked desperately.  
  
"If you were shunned by your lover and beaten my your friend, for reasons beyond your comprehension, Master Dwarf, would you not suffer from a broken heart?"  
  
A/N: I know I'm bad, I just can't help it. Review if you'd like me to be nicer, or worse (depending on what you prefer), and I'll see what I can do. 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hello all once more! I am now recovered from my accident and glad to find my love of writing had still remained in tact. I hope you enjoy this chapter, its very unusual. Big thanks to all who reviewed and to those who will. Cheysuli I plead, beg update Hidden Darkness! Please! I need it. Katherine, same goes out to you. Read on!  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Black.  
  
Completely black.  
  
Or at least it had been at first. Now it had dimmed at the edges, faded to a bleak grey. A change so subtle he may not have seen it, had his eyes been open. Slowly, so slowly images and shapes began to appear, all grey. Occasionally a letter or even a word would pass by. They came without a sound, and left just the same. Some flashed by, retreating into oblivion within the second. Others lingered, twisting and turning, wading and drowning in the confusion of the unconscious. Is it possible for thoughts to creep? None dared to venture into colour, swirling like shadows in a shadow world.  
  
Half remembered names and faces.  
  
A fragment of a song.  
  
The darkness would have been soothing, an escape from the reality of light, but alas the images that haunted his dazed mind were not benevolent. They mocked him with their ambiguity, challenged him to make sense of chaos, to combat the unseen. The unreal.  
  
The faces that first smiled on him, turned cruel, and grew so dark they threatened to be lost in the black. Weapons, or rather shapes, appeared in hands that till now shook others and clasped with affection.  
  
He tried to turn away, but how does one go about escaping the mind? It is impossible. Instead he shifted his body, but without sight knew not where he headed. In reality he had twisted sharply to his right, his head impacting with an exposed tree root.  
  
Try telling that to the wounded imagination.  
  
His attempt to flee blocked by an unseen wall, the perimeter of his mind. He had reached the edge and was about to fall off. And fall off he did.  
  
The blissful darkness returned, free from shape or foe. Just darkness like that of sleep, only this was different. This darkness was reluctant to relinquish its hold. This was not the kind of slumber he could simply wake from.  
  
Suddenly something started to stir once more in the mist. The return of the faces, this time slightly clearer. He could make out long fine hair blowing carelessly in a strong wind, strange as he did not feel cold. Sound pervaded his mind for the first time in what felt like hours. Softly at first, someone was calling to him, or perhaps shouting at him. The call grew louder but no more distinct. The face became sharper and soon was the only thing he saw. Expressionless, the figure betrayed the voice seeming detached from it, with an eerie, evil calm.  
  
The figure pulled away though could still be seen. He was bizarrely aware of great distance. Now he felt cold, cold for the first time in years.  
  
The call became a desperate shriek, whatever it was trying to say lost in inexplicable hysteria.  
  
A flash of brilliant blue and the figure, now plainly cloaked, outstretched an inconceivably long arm and beckoned ominously with a nimble finger.  
  
Unaware of any other option, he leaned forward about to step forward with the gait of an unpractised infant. But all of a sudden though still surrounded by darkness he felt himself teetering dangerously on a ledge, and scrabbled backwards.  
  
He knew he did not want to fall. He saw nothing yet he knew. Yet the figure still gestured for him to come, or did it? Looking closer, he saw it had pulled back, it seemed shocked. The hand remained extended yet it hung limp.  
  
In a flash of insight he realised. . . understood. He comprehended what was happening to him.  
  
Mandos.  
  
He was being called, nay, tempted into the Halls of Mandos.  
  
This was not the airy light he had always imagined it to be. Not a place of final rest, of memory and of heroes. Why was he faced with such darkness? Is this what truly awaited him in Mandos?  
  
The figure seemed to read his mind and in a voice that penetrated all others, simply said;  
  
"You are not meant to be here."  
  
That was the key. He had come to Mandos before his time. Something unnatural had played a part in his passing, something had interfered.  
  
Amazed at what had come to be, yet sad to be denied peace; he lay sprawled on the unseen plateau. He waited, waited for whatever was to come next. It was the mysterious figure that moved first.  
  
It's hand still outstretched, turned along with what body that could be seen, and indicated a completely different direction.  
  
Tired with lying, he sat up puzzled. The cloaked form stepped forward to the ledge on its side dropping his hand, only to raise it once more and point directly at him before speaking again.  
  
"I am sending you back."  
  
He was not prepared for what happened next. A stream of light burst through his vision, his hands flew to his face, there was a hideous scream, like that of a terrified maiden. The sunlight was so dazzling his hands failed to stop it as it worked it's way into his brain. His warm brain. Slowly, steadily, he let his tired eyes adjust and removed his hands, flexing them, testing their strength. He finally looked out onto the world.  
  
The real world.  
  
Legolas had woken.  
  
A/N: See? Not what you expected. Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Review! 


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I can only apologize for the huge delay, life and health issues as well as UNI have prevented me from updating, but I am still here, and still writing, I am halfway through a Legolas/Gimli epic and a new chapter of Something of Beauty should be up tomorrow. Many thanks to loyal supporters and the countless inspiring authors!  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Even breathing was a shock to the system as Legolas fought to come round, the piercing scream that had signaled his return to the land of the living still ringing in his ears. The sight that greeted him was a mass of faces; similar to the scene he had just left. Only now the expressions told of concern, love and joy rather than the inexplicable hatred of those prior.  
  
All at once the spell was broken and the elf was bombarded with familiar and desperate voices, the chaos too much, he signaled silence with a hand. He was instantly obeyed and the new quiet seemed to present him with a clarity that had been sorely lacking.  
  
"I must leave." The frail figure made to rise and a strong palm was led flat on his chest.  
  
"You have just returned from the brink of death. A moment of stillness if you please." The soft voice of the Lady left on room for debate. As Legolas blinked and turned to face her he saw her expression held concern, but her countenance held not the warmth it normally did for him. Galadriel seemed puzzled and bit her lip as if to stave her words. Legolas moved to prompt her, with some persuasion she spoke of her worry.  
  
"You have long been my friend and ally, though as of late I had found you. . . ." She faltered through a fear of implication. Gandalf seemed to suggest a continuation. The Lady nodded and once again moved beside Legolas. "You have been decidedly out of character. I have sensed occasional changes in our aura, some of which appear malevolent. When I moved to question you, you resisted mental conversation, something I had employed to save you discomfort."  
  
Legolas could respond with nothing but silence, but this in turn spoke volumes to the Lady, she began to turn from him, and he tugged at her long sleeve weakly.  
  
"For many days now I have accused of crimes, barely defined, of which I know nothing, it has led to the complete destruction of all that is good in my life and the near loss of it. All have turned from me and surely if you do also I shall walk the Halls I so narrowly avoided."  
  
"I will admit to a sense of unease, but in this world, this can be contributed to anything, and has haunted me for many years. The facts, Greenleaf, are stacked against you." She finished sadly.  
  
The icy despair he had expected, but also a decisiveness that surprised even him gripped Legolas. He had grown tired of playing the victim and rose to his feet despite the flurry of objections. The homely faces of the halflings looked on mournfully as Legolas straightened out his clothing with a sense of purpose.  
  
"I will leave now, where I am headed I do not know, the quest is largely out of my hands, and I doubt it will be easy for me to continue. However none present must ever doubt my love for them, or my desire to save and protect our world." A solitary silver tear worked its way down a pale cheek.  
  
The hobbits objected with the most vigor, Gimli even rushing to his feet. Both the wizard and the Lady seemed to accept the decision with a morose defeat.  
  
Merry and Pippin spoke hurriedly of Aragorn, the talan they shared and the possessions and love Legolas would be leaving with such a sudden departure.  
  
Gimli spoke of the friendship he and the elf shared, and asked how the elf could possibly desert him in such a way.  
  
Legolas answered quickly bent down and faced the hobbits. "Alas there is nothing waiting for me in my talan, nothing of any material value, or the priceless love of my beloved Aragorn. He has made it very what he thinks of me, and I would not wish to encounter him. I have no shortage of enemies, and do not need another."  
  
"Gimli, it is true you shall forever hold a place in my heart, however, friendship is based on complete trust and faith. I see from your eyes you have been swayed by deceptive appearances and the indecision of the good Lady." The beautiful voice held no malice. "Your trust is gone, in this you have deserted me first." The elf rose without his customary grace and for the first time in millennia, he appeared old.  
  
Not knowing what to say, Legolas merely nodded at the two larger figures and turned from them all, ready to begin his journey with a single step.  
  
He had barely escaped the sight of the group, all of which had slumped to the ground, when he was stopped by the mental call of Galadriel, he whirled, startled to face her once again.  
  
"How?" came the question. The she-elf began to elaborate. "How did you escape the Halls of Mandos? You were so close, how is it you are back?"  
  
Legolas drank in the sight of the Lady, gripped by some realization, some urgency that had suddenly descended, shattering the shocked calm. Still, he had no desire for conversation or pity that had come far too late. He turned his back on her and walked with difficulty to the edge of the great forest. He glanced back to see the figure he had so long admired still awaiting a reply.  
  
"I was sent back, I was not meant to be there."  
  
The Crown Prince disappeared without once looking back again. If he had, he would have seen Galadriel turn with a whirl of shirts and flee in a desperate plea to reach her husband.  
  
She did reach him. Her brilliant mind was awash with questions and half- formulated answers. What could the higher powers possibly have known? What force could interfere with such fundamentals as life and death? She was feet from the central plateau of Lothlorien when a sight greeted her that instantly confirmed all of her fears. The shocked shriek that tumbled from her lips attracted the attention of many around. Celeborn ran to her closely followed by the soon to be King of Men.  
  
"What is wrong my love?" He asked with apprehension.  
  
Before Galadriel could even articulate a reply, Aragorn moved defensively between the Lady and the figure of his now former lover.  
  
"You should not be here, and are not welcome, how dare you trouble our host so! Leave before -"  
  
"Peace Aragorn at once, you presume too much." She addressed Grima in his fairer form. The foul snake was now feeling ill at ease; he had avoided this she-elf earlier but would struggle to do so in the presence of such an audience. "Tell me young one, how it is I and many others have just witnessed Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood leave this woods in an entirely opposing direction?"  
  
Aragorn was unable to hide his reaction to the revelation.  
  
Grima squirmed and stammered amidst the scrutiny. "I came back." The answer seemed more of a feeble suggestion.  
  
Galadriel stepped forward to the man. "Did you honestly believe your shining lover was capable of such betrayal and unkindness? You believe he to be deserving of the punishment he has endured?"  
  
"I saw him!" Aragorn bit out bitterly, expecting the Lady to back down from her questioning. But she did not.  
  
The elves that surrounded the main group, drawn by the commotion, gasped and whispered conspiratorially amongst themselves. Galadriel observed with disdain how quickly the young elf was judged as the story unraveled.  
  
No longer to share this with the gathering hoard, the Lady took the bedraggled man aside.  
  
"You saw what happened to Legolas and you moved not to prevent it, yes?"  
  
Aragorn rushed to defend himself but was cut off.  
  
"You saw Haldir beat him to the ground did you not?"  
  
Aragorn nodded shamefully. The crowd straightened instantly as their Lady gestured to them. Their Lord stood in support of his wife, finally speaking up as he realized what she was trying to get across. His regal voice boomed throughout the clearing and his people were quick to reply.  
  
"How many of you saw Legolas Greenleaf attacked here in this clearing not three candle marks ago?"  
  
Some raised their hands, others shouted.  
  
"Then pray tell by what miracle of elven healing is his face unmarred?"  
  
At last silence spread across the scene, and Aragorn fell hard to his knees.  
  
A/N: Please let me know what you think, update ASAP. 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I hate writer's block I really do. My heartfelt thanks to my patient reviewers.  
  
A Long Overdue Update  
  
Or  
  
Chapter 8  
  
Aragorn at once was spurred to life by the quiet, scandalous whispers of elves unused to such a scene. His mind was torn over what do to, question this impostor or pursue his erstwhile lover. In the end the question was answered for him.  
  
Grima did what comes naturally to his vile cowardice, turning he began to flee hoping to become lost in the trees, his mind unthinking of his poor chances amongst so many elves. Still the distance he covered surprised him. He wildly called to his master as if his cries would wake some unseen, slumbering force.  
  
However despite his swift tread he did not get far enough. Feet from where the trees thickly descended he found himself imbedded in bark.  
  
Aragorn had whirled at the sudden commotion and reclaimed his sword, launching the glinting spear into the air like a dagger. The blade had ripped through light elven fabric and pinned the unfortunate figure to the nearest tree by its golden hair and tunic.  
  
Wormtongue could barely turn his head but risked serious injury in order to ascertain the whereabouts of the man who no doubt wished to render him limb from limb. Not surprisingly the figure was striding towards him with murderous eyes. Confident he possessed Aragorn's only weapon, Grima attempted to pervade an air of confidence.  
  
This poor guise slipped as Aragorn pulled a knife from his boot without skipping a beat.  
  
Grima watched with horror, as he saw no figure move to stop the vengeful human. It become more of a shock to see the dagger raised to his face and begin moving in a undoubtedly fatal downward movement only to by halted by an uncharacteristic cry from the Lady of The Woods.  
  
The she-elf charged forwards, sliding over the grass like hard frost on a clear, cold morning. Frost, that's exactly what Grima thought of her.  
  
"He is not unaided Aragorn."  
  
The look of surprise was watched on both faces.  
  
"This fell creature has managed to penetrate this great forest and convince all here he is the golden Prince we have known for centuries. There is some greater power here. I watched this snake dine not a moon ago. He looked every bit the Prince I knew."  
  
"Parallels." The muttered word caused all to whirl in search of voice, all except Galadriel who bowed her head in frightening disbelief.  
  
"Surely not."  
  
"'Tis true my Lady." Gandalf surged into the central clearing.  
  
"That is a most dangerous spell and extremely complex." With a sigh Galadriel stood face to face with Grima, addressing him directly for the first time. "It appears we are not the only ones to be deceived, Wormtongue." In response the figure shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. "Come now, you could not expect anything less from such a treacherous master. Saruman, if I am not much mistaken."  
  
Grima confirmed the theory and viciously asked the question on most minds.  
  
"What are you talking about?!"  
  
"You have not just assumed the form of Legolas, foul snake, but you are slowly beginning to become him, you are drawing parallels, hence the name of the spell. It is not possible even in this world of magic for a person to exist in two places at once. The Gods are attempting to unite you as two halves. Soon you will become identical, each half elven, each half. . ." The wizard faltered, labelling this creature as human would be an insult to the world of men. ". . .whatever you are."  
  
"You lie!"  
  
Celeborn, who until this point had remained wisely silent, appeared calmly from behind Wormtongue, the assembling crowd stepped back reverently.  
  
"I think not, Legolas' injuries bestowed upon him by my faithful Marchwarden. . . ." Haldir shrank backwards from where he watched. ". . did not heal as I would have expected. Tell me, evil one, where would you have learnt to dine and move with the grace of the elves, or flee with the speed you have just shown?"  
  
Grima's beautiful elven form shifted more violently against his trapping. "Why? Why would he do this! This was meant to break him and the stupid elf up! It has done it's job, why this infernal spell!"  
  
"Credit yourself with more intelligence, fool!" Gandalf had swiftly blocked Aragorn's path as the man tensed. "I have seen the way Saruman looks at Legolas, was he not appreciative of your new form? In time you could replace Legolas here, mayhap we would have been none the wiser, blinded by Saruman's magic"  
  
Gandalf closed in on the impostor as a huntsman would the kill. "Why have you when he could have the original?"  
  
"NO!" The sound chorused through the trees.  
  
"We must find Legolas, the spell can be reversed but time grows short. The elf now wonders open plains seemingly without much of his elven attributes, including his powers of healing and agility."  
  
"I will go." Aragorn finally removed his sword from the aged tree, but still Grima did not move.  
  
"We will all go." A reunited fellowship stood expectantly behind, much to Aragorn's relief. He would have to explain himself to them swiftly.  
  
Gandalf grasped his staff all the harder. "We must find his before sunset tomorrow, or I fear we will be too late."  
  
"Let him die." Wormtongue mumbled venomously.  
  
Again Anduril gleamed in the low sunlight, again the wizard halted the blade.  
  
"It appears you have not been listening, Grima. The souls of Legolas and your dark self are now linked. Do you not see?"  
  
There was a long and pregnant pause.  
  
"Kill one and you kill the other."  
  
*************************  
  
Legolas had not travelled far before needing to rest, frowning, he put this down to the injuries he had received. He sank to the ground, favouring a tender right shoulder. He had feared dislocation but had not told the others, such concern was not at the forefront of his mind. His lover of two years had stood and watched him be beaten to the ground. The depth of betrayal that demanded such punishment astounded Legolas. Still, he could not define his crime, nor justify Haldir's .  
  
Legolas quietly cursed his thoughtlessness, in his speed to escape he had not though that such an injury would affect his handling of his bow. Testing his strength, he found he could barely hold the bow straight, let alone notch an arrow.  
  
Oh well, it would heal soon enough, would it not?  
  
A/N: Please, please review. I have another chapter up this week. You have my word. 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I am never giving my word again, when I do people die and stop me updating. I am very, very sorry about the delay but it was out of my hands. Thank you to all the amazing reviewers, the last was one of the most reviewed chapters to date!  
  
Chapter 9  
  
So the remainder of the Fellowship once more descended forlornly onto the blustering, bleak plains. Each absence was painfully conspicuous and drove sorrow into each of the walkers.  
  
The quest to destroy the ring momentarily forgotten in an indulgent push for personal gain. Every traveller had faced enough toil, and refused to see their number dwindle further through evil meddling and rash actions of their own. The quest would undoubtedly falter without the influence of the wondrous elf anyhow, now without him, each companion looked back at the numerous times he had saved the Fellowship and how his laughter and song had kept the group moving. Cruelly deprived of the eyes and ears of the Fellowship, the group was unnaturally weary, stalking their way across open land like hunted prey.  
  
Aragorn had been bitterly quiet, twice he had approached the others in an attempt to explain himself, and twice he had been quickly silenced. The group was now focussed on their formidable task.  
  
It is the stuff of fairytale, attempting to find a single elf, who does not wish to found, on the broad plains and winding paths that surrounded the sprawling Golden Forest. A near impossible task, but impossibility was no longer feared, and despite being previously warned against it, this fearsome group dared to hope.  
  
In reality, this was all that was left for them, hope, love, and the passion of belonging, bonds of Fellowship that went deeper than even the darkest caverns of Moria.  
  
Aragorn winced as he watched the brave, hardy hobbits stumble once more over the unforgiving terrain. He knew how he had forced them into this new and bleak quest. The need to explain and the desire for forgiveness rose in his heart once more.  
  
"I saw him with Rumil."  
  
The strangeness of the sentence almost forced the determined group to grind to a reluctant stop, but Gimli surged onwards, yet still turned to the man. Aragorn sensed a need to continue.  
  
"But it was not him, merely his form. I watched Legolas make love to Rumil. Only now do I realise my mistake."  
  
For a moment the downcast man thought he saw tears glimmer in the eyes of the sturdy dwarf to his right, but the shaggy head turned away to deny him such knowledge.  
  
"When I saw Haldir attack him, a small part of my mind thought I saw justice, but I realise what I saw was vengeance. Such is the curse and weakness of men, 'tis not the greed and corruption I first feared but the desire for satisfaction, to be wronged and then repaid, to gain from the persecution we are so sure we are a victim of. Just like my kin, I am lost, lost to pride and self-pity."  
  
The Fellowship had now stopped completely, dumbstruck by the man's words. Gimli turned outwards to face across the desolate expanse. With a daring step his sorrowful mutter was almost lost to the wind.  
  
"Nay Aragorn, you are lost to love."  
  
With Aragorn's powerful confession a greater ease encompassed the companions, but the determination onwards doubled. The lead changed many a time as if a reflection and tribute to the battle between dwindling hope and renewed vigour. Aragorn's pace was consistently relentless, he stopped only to glance desperately and then still as if trying to pick up some whisper in the wind. His halt usually granted everyone a reprieve, none daring to go on until the man thought it safe.  
  
Within the next mile, Aragorn had begun to pause more and more as if distressed by something he could not define. The deathly cold air whipped around his face as if taunting him with its silence. The hobbits had once again lent themselves to unease and oft looked to Gandalf for support or explanation, but weary figure simply shook his head dejectedly, as he could not give them either.  
  
The hobbits, man, dwarf and wizard stumbled further, eyes scanning the horizon until Aragorn whirled suddenly, facing back from where they had come, a startled gasp playing on his lips.  
  
To the amazement of all, after a long and pregnant pause, a golden figure appeared over the bow of the hill. His long golden tresses where thrown carelessly by the strong wind, his form was lithe yet powerful, a mighty bow gripped tightly in his left hand. The first thought had been to rush towards him as he approached, but the Fellowship of the Ring had long learnt that appearances were deceptive, and failed to believe their great task had concluded so easily.  
  
Aragorn simply stared into the setting sun as it cast an ominous shadow athwart the ascending figure. As it came nearer a beautiful elf melted into view, its beauty tarnished by its misery. It walked bravely up to the astounded assembly and dropped reverently to his knees.  
  
"Arise Haldir." Aragorn swiftly spoke with less kindness and more anger that he truly felt.  
  
The elf obeyed slowly and regretfully.  
  
"I owe my fair cousin an apology, and I believe I owe his fair friends an elf." The Warden looked hopefully across the mass of faces.  
  
"We are in truth relieved to see you Haldir, I have explained all to my companions and the actions of us both, while irreprehensible, are somewhat explained. I am sure you will be welcomed with the same forgiveness as I." The Fellowship each gave a slight nod and the elf seemed to relax at once.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Come we must push onwards, the light of our first day has been lost to us, if we do not found our beloved Legolas on the morrow, we may find something else entirely."  
  
*************************  
  
Legolas had swiftly realised his stupidity, he was unprepared as the dark red sun set and quickly put himself to rest on a bed of leaves in the small copse he had stumbled upon, mindful of his painful arm and shoulder. It was long before he sensed the presence of something else beside him, the trees spoke wildly of danger but the elf could see none.  
  
Strangely he saw a flash of white before everything went black.  
  
A/N: I honestly don't know when there will be more but it should not be overly long. Please review however; it will be sure to speed me up. 


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: It's been a long time and I am desperately sorry for that, hope you haven't yet chosen to despise me. On with the chapter...

Chapter 10

Legolas woke to an eerie sound, a tired creaking as a building fought to keep itself up. A stale stench assaulted his senses and the sound of dripping water rang in his ears. He attempted to move, and was unsurprised to find he was bound, but loosely, only one manacle tying him to the greyish stone. He could move adequately and began to test his weary joints. Miraculously, the pain in his shoulder and arm had vanished completely; he ached with rough usage, but little more than that. Finally settled he began to assess his location. The stone was dull with a darkness Legolas had never before seen, even amongst Mirkwood's deepest caverns. It was near black and clammy to the touch, a malignant slime oozed unrepentantly to the floor. The floor itself was wet and cold, treacherous to traverse. Being an elf, the golden figure searched for a source of light in the dank room. A tiny slit of a window offered some hope. Heavy footsteps and the distinctive clattering of an accompanying staff halted the investigation.

The robed figure of Saruman appeared from a small corridor on the right side, more youthful than he had ever been seen. Only his wretched face conveyed his long years. He attempted a smile, but it was truly an insult to the notion. The robes he wore were fresh and clean, hanging on him well.

"Ah Legolas, an honour to finally have you grace the halls of Orthanc."

Legolas worst suspicions now confirmed, the elf dropped his head.

"Have heart, you are a important guest, perhaps you will learn to like it here."

Still Legolas remained silent and refused to look the Maia in the eye. He would not give him the satisfaction of seeing the confusion in his features and the flash of fear that coursed through them.

"I see you are determined to make this difficult ... I would advise you, that was the decision of your unfortunate kinsman."

With that, the wizard raised his staff, pointing it to a far corner. The orb held within the top of the wooden length pulsed with a vivid, white light, illuminating the dark recesses of the room. Now for the first time the snarled body of what must have been an elf became apparent.

Legolas gazed open mouthed; the figure was barely recognisable, only the remains of a long, golden mane, torched and singed, suggested the creature had been elven. The poor thing had twisted and contorted, obviously writhing in great pain. A hand raised feebly in way of protection or denial to a near melted face, itself a montage of horror and agony. The Mirkwood Prince himself dropped swiftly to his knees, both from shock and to pay his respects to the unfortunate dead.

"He made it hard on himself, you needn't go that way. I would very much like to keep you, but you have something I need. Something Grima would not understand."

Legolas looked on, bewildered, yet at the same moment, a grim reality suffused his mind.

"The idea of the double, the plot against Aragorn, is little more than a distraction. You were always the ultimate accolade. At this very moment, you are more crucial than the ring itself."

Saruman paced the room, delighted by the newly found power of revelation, once more he closed in his prey.

"I will admit to it being a very pleasant distraction indeed."

With a prideful flourish the wizard pulled a glowing orb from his robes. Legolas knew what it was instantly and watched intently as an image appeared.

-----

A rebuilt Fellowship battled hard against the driving winds upon the plains. But this was not the only reason Haldir proceeded with a bowed head. He had never felt so ashamed of his actions. He had known deep down in his heart that Legolas would never hurt his brother so, but he had not heeded his own warning. Haldir had jumped forward to protect his own, while for the same reason, Aragorn had not.

The man himself had resolved to ponder over his lowliness no more. They had all been duped, falling right into the hands of those who fought to destroy them.

It was that thought that was crossing his mind as Aragorn was jolted back to reality by an anguished cry. He jerked violently and whirled to where Gimli stooped over a disheartening discovery. Having just emerged from a small group of trees, the wanderers could easily have missed such a trinket in the sodden ground. They would have, if it weren't so out of place. There, half buried in the mud was a dented, misshapen vambrace.  
  
-----

Legolas closed his weary eyes as he watched his friends crowd around the cursed object. He remembered well now removing it as it served to pain his arm further. The added weight pulling cruelly on his shoulder. It was ridiculous to be even wearing it, being completely unarmed. Mere habit in the end, an overhang from too much archery practice. 

Reluctantly, realisation was starting to piece together in his mind, the full impact of Saruman's scheme hitting him at last.

The Maia revealed how events had unfolded far greater that he could ever have predicted. To drabble so maliciously in affairs of the hearts across Lothlorien had been a delicious delight. The double, a parallel figure to Legolas, had caused uproar and dissention. Aragorn's strong and dangerous leadership was rattled to the core.

But there was something else; the tall robed figure was still hiding something. It was clear in the way he moved. Though still appearing well, he moved poorly, struggling to lean himself against the stone.

"But you are something outside this petty charade and not the plaything that you surmise. You have something elf, that I require desperately. As did your ill-fated kinsman. Only he was reluctant to give it to me." A grim smile stretched across the cracked and ancient lips. Legolas thought he saw pain flash quickly through the dark, slightly mournful eyes.

The wizard added mysteriously, "One does not shift to the side of evil and darkness without paying a terrible price..."

A/N: For anyone wondering what a vambrace is it is a hardy cuff/sleeve that archers wear to stop the bowstring bruising and eventually scarring their arms. I will update as soon as I can. Before Christmas guaranteed!


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